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Letra

I know what's gonna happen
I'll try to go to bed
With fear of failure flapping
Like a fruit bat in my head

I'll sleep for half an hour
The clock will ring at six
I'll wake up in the shower with a stomach full of bricks
So I won't have any breakfast
Maybe just a little tea
Like when you have to go
And get a colonoscopy
Which incidentally isn't half
As disconcerting or upsetting
As going for a part you know
There is no way that you are getting

But anyway I'm heading
Downtown for the audition
Where everything I'm dreading
Will be coming to fruition
And here's what's gonna happen
I'll walk in weak with hunger
And there's a dozen girls
Who look like me but ten years younger
I'll go into the bathroom
And I'll try to vocalize
And I'll be singing "minga-minga-minga-minga-ming"
But I'll be hearing Sandy sucks
She really sucks, she really, really, really blows
And she's old, and she's lame
And then someone calls my name

And here's what happens
I'll walk into the room
The gross fluorescent lighting is inviting as a tomb
And everybody smiles
They'll say its good to see ya
But all I'll see is judges
And they'll all look like Scalia

And then a little banter as they look me up and down
And somewhere through the fog of insecurity and hate
I'll try to convince them that I'm charming
And I'm clever and I'm fun to have around
But I'm starting to unravel
In my head I hear the gavel

Guilty!
They're gonna throw the book at me 'cuz I'm
Guilty!
Of coming in and wasting all their time
Guilty!
Of almost every other showbiz crime
Not young enough!
Not thin enough!
Not pretty enough!
Not good enough!
We hereby sentence you to a lifetime of waiting tables and debilitating self-loathing

Sandy?

But wait now someone's asking
So can we hear your voice?
I make a lame attempt at humor: Do I have a choice?
I nod at the pianist
He's always wearing black
He's always in a turtleneck
With dandruff on his back

No sooner do I get my note
And open up my trap
Then inevitably some mealy-mouthed a**istant director's
Thumbs are all over his iPhone
And I know he's probably tweeting
LOL, This girl is crap
She's a fake
She's a phony
She could never win a Tony

And now I'm in a place I know quite well
I've left the world, and I've entered hell
I'm this far away from a fainting spell
But just before I die
I finish a song
Which I oversell
Somebody says thanks
And wishes me well
The next thing I know
I'm at Taco Bell
Stuffing my face with meat

I'm trying to take it slowly
I'm trying to be my best
I'm trying to be more holy
Less bitter and depressed
I'm reading Eckhart Tolle
He makes a lot of sense
I bought a Buddhist bowl
He says he it helps you be less tense

It doesn't do a thing for me
I sit there on the floor
And watch a vivid sequence
Of humiliating incidents from my past go by
And think what kind of masochist
Keeps coming back for more
When she knows what's gonna happen
'Cuz it never doesn't happen
'Cuz it always-

Sandy?

Always-

Sandy!

Michael?

No! I know what's gonna happen
Don't tell me that I don't
And don't say that I'll rise to
The occasion 'cuz I won't

And don't say I've got talent
And don't say I've got heart
And don't say that I'm clever
'Cuz I know I'm pretty smart
I'm smart enough to know
That I'm too stupid to admit
You can't survive a diet
That consists of eating sh*t
The trick is knowing when it's time to pack your bags
And say "that's it!"

You know what's gonna happen
I know what's gonna happen
Here's what's gonna happen
I quit!
I quit!
I quit!

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